


3 is a party

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome, established tamamiya, snowball - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2019-01-19 18:53:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12415944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Miyata wants to watch.





	3 is a party

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

“Man, I really miss Tama-chan’s mouth,” Kitayama says airily as he lounges on the couch.

Fujigaya sprays his drink everywhere, Nikaido and Senga cackle like hens, and Yokoo stands up and walks right out of the room. Meanwhile, Tamamori just shrugs and lounges on Miyata, who undoubtedly has a smug expression on his face, because _he’s_ the reason that Kitayama has been cut off for a good number of months now.

“Sorry, Kitamitsu,” Tamamori says indifferently.

Kitayama sighs like his life is hard. “I mean, I respect your relationship and all, but you were the only person who could take it all. _Ever_.”

“What, seriously?” Nikaido asks, suddenly interested. “I don’t remember it being that bad.”

“It wasn’t _bad_ ,” Kitayama replies. “The rest of you just had to use your hands, too. Tama-chan can take it all the way down his throat.”

Senga and Nikaido look at Tamamori in awe, and Tamamori feels an overwhelming urge to swallow.

“Some of us don’t enjoy being choked,” Fujigaya says with a grimace. “And do you mind? I’m eating.”

“I don’t mind at all. Eat away.” Kitayama smirks as he folds his arms. “Be careful swallowing, though, since you have the worst gag reflex I’ve ever seen.”

Tamamori snickers until he’s on the receiving end of a single-lidded glare. “I don’t recall having any complaints, Gaya,” he backpedals.

“Whatever, I don’t do that shit anymore anyway.” Fujigaya tosses his takeout box into the trash and grabs his man bag. “You should try a girl sometime, Kitayama. Or someone outside of our group and ABC-Z.”

Kitayama makes a face. “Why would I want to do that? You guys are right here.”

Rolling his eyes, Fujigaya leaves the room, probably to catch up with Yokoo and pretend to be straight. Tamamori feels a little guilty that Kitayama is the odd one out now that he and Miyata are _official_ , since it was because of him that they even realized they liked each other in the first place. It certainly wasn’t Tamamori’s idea to fool around in their hotel room on their first concert tour, and he’d have died an old man before Miyata ever made a move on his own.

Then he feels Miyata’s arms tighten around him and shrugs him off, muttering about him being gross, but doesn’t let go of his hands. As bad as he feels about leaving Kitayama with the idiot combi, he’s glad he took this next step with Miyata. They couldn’t just play around forever.

*

“Do you ever miss it?” Miyata asks, his voice soft in Tamamori’s ear, and Tamamori squirms.

“Miss what?” Tamamori replies sleepily. It doesn’t come out nearly as annoyed as he wants it to, but that’s mostly because Miyata’s pressed up against his back and clearly has no intention on sleeping anytime soon.

“You know,” Miyata replies, and Tamamori jumps when Miyata’s lips connect with his cartilage piercing. “Kitamitsu.”

Tamamori sighs, but it comes out as a yawn. “Miyacchi, I’ve told you a million times, you’re the perfect size. Just because I can take more doesn’t mean I want to.”

“That’s not what I’m asking you.”

“I don’t have to miss him,” Tamamori says stubbornly. “I see him all the time.”

Now Miyata’s hand is travelling down Tamamori’s chest, right past the waistband of his shorts to where he’s already half hard from Miyata’s ear molestation. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“You seriously want to have this conversation while doing _that_.” Tamamori arches into his hold, content to lean back and kiss him just to shut him up, but Miyata doesn’t let him.

“I want you to admit it,” Miyata says into the skin behind Tamamori’s ear, making Tamamori thrust against his palm, and grinds against his ass enough to show that he’s just as aroused. “Because I miss him. A lot.”

“Really?” Tamamori starts to pout, but then Miyata’s stroking him properly and he can’t do anything but moan. “Aren’t I enough for you?”

“Of course,” Miyata answers. “I love you, but I also love the way you look with him.”

Tamamori doesn’t answer him. What would he even say? Miyata’s hand on his cock is quite helpful in lessening the shock, at least to the point where Tamamori is actually considering it.

“Do you remember?” Miyata asks. “I know you do. I don’t get to watch you when you’re with me, you know? You’re so hot when you’re turned on, Yuuta.”

Another moan escapes in spite of himself, and Tamamori stretches his neck as Miyata’s mouth persuades him even more. Tamamori can be a stubborn brat when he wants to be, but Miyata knows how to talk him into doing what he wants. This is basically the reason they’re together to begin with.

“So you just want me to be with him?” Tamamori asks, allowing his mind to wander to the last time Kitayama was inside him. Even with as gentle as he was, Tamamori couldn’t walk straight for a few days. Kitayama isn’t porn-star huge or anything, but definitely the biggest in the group; Tamamori likes to think that this was God’s way of making up for his height.

“I’ll be involved, too,” Miyata tells him, and Tamamori moans again as Miyata works his cock just slowly enough to keep him from finishing. “He could be between us, or maybe you could? There are endless possibilities.”

“Most of which we’ve already done,” Tamamori adds, helpfully pulling his knees up as Miyata tugs down his shorts. Fingers poke inside him only long enough to spread lube, and then Miyata’s pushing in, lifting Tamamori’s thigh over his arm to go deeper. This is Tamamori’s favorite position, mostly because he doesn’t have to move, and Miyata can keep kissing his neck and ear as he rocks into him from behind.

“I wish I could see your face right now,” Miyata’s hissing, his voice growing rougher with each thrust. “Are you thinking about it?”

Tamamori nods, unable to speak. The visions are right behind his eyes, part memory and part fantasy, and the small section of his brain that isn’t consumed by sex feels guilty that it’s Kitayama and not Miyata he’s seeing.

“How are you thinking about it?”

“Kitamitsu,” Tamamori gasps out, and Miyata fucks him harder. “Underneath me.”

“Are you riding him?” Miyata asks, panting into the back of his neck.

Tamamori shakes his head and pushes back as he puts his words together. “Just moving against him, from the front.”

“Mm.” Miyata’s hand returns to Tamamori’s cock, groaning as Tamamori tightens around him. “That would be hot.”

“Yeah,” Tamamori replies, though whether he’s actually agreeing or just responding to the stimulation is anyone’s guess. “I’m close, Toshi.”

“Wait for me,” Miyata breathes, hands clenching on Tamamori’s body as his lips return to Tamamori’s ear. “ _Now_.”

Tamamori lets go, his world exploding as he comes hard over Miyata’s pumping fist and feels Miyata pulse inside him with a deep groan. Miyata pulls out but doesn’t move, gently lowering Tamamori’s leg and wrapping his arms around him, and Tamamori wonders how he could even think about being with another man after sharing something this intimate with Miyata.

“I don’t think you’ve ever reacted so strongly before,” Miyata whispers as they calm down. “Don’t be ashamed, okay? I love it, and I can tell you love it, too.”

“Not ashamed,” Tamamori replies, rolling over onto his stomach to stretch out. “I just feel like this should be wrong.”

“Most people think what _we_ do is wrong,” Miyata points out.

“There is no room for your logic here,” Tamamori grumbles, only struggling a little when Miyata pulls him back into his arms. “Ugh, get off.”

Miyata just laughs, the hot breath in Tamamori’s ear making him melt again.

*

“So I hear you want to have a threesome,” Kitayama greets Tamamori, taking the seat next to him and making Fujigaya choke on his lunch again.

Tamamori pats Fujigaya a few times on the back until he’s confident that the other man is going to live. “Looks that way.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” Kitayama asks, looking concerned. “I don’t want to come between you two — at least, you know, other than in the literal sense.”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Fujigaya declares, still hacking. “Don’t you freaks do anything else with your time?”

They ignore him. “Miyacchi seems to be really pushing for it,” Kitayama goes on, placing a gentle hand on Tamamori’s shoulder. “But if you don’t want to, I’ll tell him no.”

It’s dangerous to look into Kitayama’s eyes, because they’re so soft and deep that Tamamori feels like he could easily be brainwashed into doing whatever Kitayama wanted. He loves Miyata, he keeps reminding himself, but he’ll be damned if Kitayama isn’t a gorgeous man. Tamamori may have to look down at him, but what he sees is very pleasing to his eyes. Especially when there are no cameras around and Kitayama’s not trying to impress anyone in old jeans that fit him _very_ well and a T-shirt.

When he has to actively stop himself from reaching around to grab Kitayama’s ass, Tamamori admits defeat. “No, I want to.”

Kitayama’s growing smirk makes his blood boil. “Okay, then. You both know where I live, and my schedule. Come over anytime.”

With that, he gets up to leave, and Tamamori watches him walk away.

“I will never understand what you all see in him,” Fujigaya huffs as flips through his drama script. “He’s such a bitch in bed.”

“Maybe that’s just with you,” Tamamori says, and Fujigaya makes a ‘hrmph’ noise.

Later, when they meet up with the back four, Miyata takes one look at Tamamori’s face and flashes a dirty grin. Tamamori thinks about seeing that exact same expression while pressed up against Kitayama and has an urge to shove Miyata into the nearest empty room for the first time ever. Usually he can contain himself, particularly when it involves active effort on his part, but the thought is just so _hot_ that he can hardly keep his body calm as they all rehearse together.

They make it to Fujigaya’s car — what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him — and Miyata hisses raunchy descriptions of Kitayama’s ass into Tamamori’s ear as Tamamori arches beneath him. When he comes, he imagines being buried balls-deep in that ass and nearly blacks out. He had only had Kitayama like that once in the past, and he was so drunk that he was amazed he could even keep it up.

“Our next day off is Saturday,” Miyata says as they catch their breaths, and Tamamori’s already making plans for their attack.

*

Tamamori likes morning sex the best, particularly on days off when they can laze around in bed and take their time. This only applies on tour, though, since Tamamori’s mother won’t let them sleep past eight and Miyata’s paranoid that someone will hear them through his own thin walls. It’s been a long time since Tamamori’s woken up with someone rousing him in the nicest way possible, lips brushing his collarbone while hands splay over his torso that starts to squirm as he becomes more and more conscious.

“Mm, ‘morning,” he mumbles, pulling Miyata into a hug like he’s a lifesized stuffed animal, and Miyata kisses the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t hear the alarm.”

“You wouldn’t hear a nuclear war if it hit right in this room,” Miyata says, then pulls on Tamamori’s shoulders to lift him up, ignoring his whine. “Come on, Yuuta. You said you wanted to go first thing in the morning.”

“But it’s still dark outside.”

“Your eyes aren’t even open. How do you know that?”

Tamamori tries his hardest to lift his eyelids and only makes it a little way. He can’t see the numbers on the alarm clock, but he’s pretty sure the first digit is a four and he groans as he flops back down, pulling Miyata with him. “Too early.”

“You said you wanted to wake him up,” Miyata whispers, and Tamamori shivers as the air breaches his ear canal. “And he has filming this afternoon.”

“Ugh, we should really look into getting our own place,” Tamamori says as he forces himself to roll out of bed. “Then he can just come to us.”

“Are you asking me to move in with you right before we go have sex with Kitamitsu?” Miyata asks, faking a gasp.

Tamamori shoves at him and nearly falls over from the force. “Shut up, this was your idea. Now help me get dressed. We can shower over there.”

The drive to Kitayama’s apartment seems to take forever, despite nobody else being on the road. Tamamori points out several times that everyone in their right minds are _sleeping_ right now, and Miyata just smiles and pokes him when he starts to drift off. Later he’ll be grateful that he was too tired to properly worry about what will happen when they get there. They’ve been with Kitayama before, of course, but they weren’t _together_ then. The past couple days have been spent ignoring the little voice in his head that tells him Miyata will end up resenting him for going through with this.

Right now he couldn’t give a fuck, letting himself right into Kitayama’s apartment and stumbling through the darkness until he finds a light. Kitayama could probably sleep through a nuclear war too, so they weren’t concerned about waking him. Tamamori supposes it’s a good thing the two of _them_ didn’t hook up, because they’d never get anywhere on time.

Miyata runs them both under the shower for a few minutes and Tamamori’s pretty sure he falls asleep standing up, because the next thing he knows, it’s lighter outside and he’s laying in Kitayama’s bed curled up against him. There’s a brief second of panic when he doesn’t know where Miyata is, but then there’s a loud snore on the other side of Kitayama and Tamamori finds justification in knowing that Miyata had passed out as well.

Kitayama makes a faint noise in his sleep and now Tamaomori is _wide_ awake, very aware of the oldest member’s close proximity and enticing scent. He’s laying on his back, unceremoniously sprawled out with most of his covers somewhere on the floor, wearing a tank top and shorts with hair eligible for Jrocker status. That stupid aquamarine necklace rises and falls with his breaths, which quicken as Tamamori peers at him, his own breath hitting Kitayama’s shoulder.

“It’s creepy to watch people sleep, you know,” Miyata’s voice pierces the silence, low and husky first thing upon waking, which Tamamori rarely experiences.

“You’re one to talk about being creepy,” Tamamori shoots back. “Sleeping in a bed with someone who doesn’t know we’re here.”

“Kitamitsu wouldn’t care if everyone in our group crawled into bed with him,” Miyata says with a stretch. “And you know how much Nikaido rolls around.”

“He’d need a bigger bed, for sure.” Tamamori’s careful to roll over onto his stomach without falling off the edge; king-size is barely enough to contain the three of them, especially with Kitayama taking up over half of it on his own. For someone so small, he can sure spread out.

“Yuuta,” Miyata says quietly, and Tamamori flicks his eyes over to him. “You should wake him up how you like me to wake you up.”

Tamamori shivers at the thought, remembering the many times he’s woken to the feeling of Miyata’s mouth around him, his body wholly interested and responsive before his brain is even involved. “Should I?”

Miyata’s eyes darken as he lays on his side, resting his head on Kitayama’s shoulder and looking down. “Yeah. He said he missed that, right?”

Nodding, Tamamori pulls up Kitayama’s shirt enough to press a tentative kiss to his belly, smiling at the way Kitayama squirms beneath them. He does it again, only this time he flicks his tongue as well, and a tiny gasp comes out with Kitayama’s next exhale. Dragging his lips just above the waistband of his shorts gets a rise out of him, and it’s Miyata who hisses as Tamamori pushes down the waistband enough to pull out his hardening cock.

Kitayama arches in his sleep, partially thwarted by Miyata’s weight on one of his arms, but he still doesn’t wake up. Tamamori wonders what he’s dreaming about as he rests his head on Kitayama’s abdomen and flicks the tip of his tongue along the head. He can’t see Kitayama’s face but he can certainly hear him, no other noise in the apartment making Kitayama’s harsh breaths sound louder, and he curls up enough to be comfortable as he slides down Kitayama’s body, taking in more of his length as he goes.

He has to lean up a bit when he gets to the bottom, swallowing around the part that extends into his throat, though it doesn’t matter since Kitayama ends up making him bounce with his thrusts anyway. He has to be awake now, fingers tangling in Tamamori’s hair and guiding him down even more. Tamamori doesn’t mind at all, because it’s less work for him (and his jaw) to just lay there and keep his mouth open.

“Fuck,” a low growl sounds from above, and now he’s definitely awake, fisting Tamamori’s hair and turning from side to side. “Tama-chan, oh my god, I missed this so much.”

Tamamori preens as he dips his hand between Kitayama’s legs to roll his balls together, and Kitayama’s next tug of his hair is a warning. Yet it’s Miyata’s voice he hears next — “Don’t swallow” — and Tamamori pulls back enough to keep Kitayama’s release in his mouth, shuddering at the deep moan that doesn’t seem to end even after Kitayama has softened and fallen from his lips.

His head feels heavy as he lifts it, looking at Miyata for guidance with what has to be puffed up cheeks from his mouthful, and Miyata inhales sharply before grabbing him by the jaw and crushing their mouths together. A bit of Kitayama’s come drips down his chin, but it’s okay because Miyata gets most of it, sucking it off of Tamamori’s tongue in the most disgusting and erotic kiss he’s ever had.

“You are so gross,” Tamamori says against his lips, and Miyata laughs as he licks the stray drops on Tamamori’s chin.

“Good morning to you, too,” Kitayama says roughly, running his hands through his hair as he tries to lean up on his elbows. His hair looks even more ridiculous now, but his cheeks are flushed and he has a stupid grin on his face.

“Good morning,” Tamamori and Miyata say in unison, and Tamamori’s pretty sure it sounds as creepy as it feels.

Kitayama makes a deflated noise and flops back down, staring at the ceiling as his breathing evens out. “I need a shower.”

He makes no effort to move, and Miyata pokes him in the side. “Are you implying something, Kitamitsu?”

“I can’t actually move right now,” is all Kitayama says, and Tamamori feels even more smug as he rolls off of Kitayama’s belly and stretches his arms out in front of him like a cat

“Well, you’re not the first person I’ve hauled into the shower today,” Miyata says to Kitayama, and there’s a lot of shifting as Miyata slings Kitayama’s arm over his shoulder and drags him across the room. Tamamori turns to watch them and pouts; Miyata laughs when he looks back and notices. “You act like you can’t join us, Yuuta.”

“Kitamitsu’s shower isn’t that big,” Tamamori replies. “It’s not like at the hotels.”

“We’ll fit if we get _real_ close,” Miyata says, a promising tone to his voice, and Kitayama snorts at the obvious conclusion.

“I’ll be in in a bit,” Tamamori says, flinging himself across Kitayama’s bed now that it’s empty. He’s still incredibly tired and now his jaw feels strained. He would much rather suck off Miyata, who fits nicely in his mouth and consistently strokes his ego by telling him how perfect and amazing he is. This makes him feel a lot better about this arrangement, smiling as he gathers up enough energy to carry his ass to the bathroom.

Kitayama’s just finishing brushing his teeth, because he really does do that in the shower, and Tamamori starts to make fun of him until he notices Miyata behind him, rubbing shampoo into Kitayama’s hair. A quick surge of rage runs through Tamamori, but he’s not awake enough to act on it and just pulls off his clothes, walking straight into the shower and between them.

Miyata’s arms are instantly around him, eyes darkening at Tamamori’s glare. “You’re hot when you’re jealous, too.”

“What, you can blow me but Miyacchi can’t wash my hair?”

Tamamori spins around to find Kitayama smirking and hovers over him with a glare. Then Miyata presses against his back and he feels it, the familiarity and comfort as well as Miyata’s arousal fitting neatly between the cheeks of his ass, and his anger dissipates. Kitayama lifts an eyebrow at him, his hair now stuck to his face like he’d gotten caught in a rainstorm, and Tamamori thinks it may be the hottest he’s ever looked.

“Kiss him,” Miyata whispers in Tamamori’s ear, following the words with a lick to his cartilage piercing, and Tamamori acts instantly.

He has to lean down a lot, way more than he’s used to, but Kitayama’s tongue does wicked things inside his mouth and Tamamori’s arms wrap around him, pulling him close. The water is mainly hitting Tamamori’s head, but it feels nice as it runs down his naked body, like thousands of tiny fingers touching him everywhere at once. The other two men are touching him, too, Miyata rubbing along the valley between his hips while Kitayama’s hands reacquaint themselves with his chest.

“You look so _hot_ , Yuuta,” Miyata hisses, and Tamamori kisses Kitayama harder, his own hands sliding down Kitayama’s back to grab his ass. Kitayama rocks into him, not for his own pleasure but for Tamamori’s, and Tamamori gasps as the erection he hadn’t even known he had grinds against Kitayama’s abdomen.

He can’t hold back his moan, hips rocking into the friction, fueled by Miyata’s grunts as he pushes back against him as well. He doesn’t remember it feeling like this before, so desperate and heated that he wants to pick up Kitayama and take him against the wall _right now_ , but that’s something that only works in AV movies and with people who aren’t inordinately opposed to exuding strength during sex (or anytime, really). Instead he squeezes both cheeks of Kitayama’s ass, making his intent crystal clear, and Kitayama’s chuckle tickles his tongue.

“Want something, Tama-chan?” Kitayama asks against his lips, and Tamamori kisses his way to Kitayama’s ear.

“Yeah, I want to fuck you into your mattress,” Tamamori says, his voice coming out as a low growl that surprises even himself.

It’s Miyata who moans, snapping his hips to push his cock along Tamamori’s crack, and Tamamori feels like he could drag them _both_ back to bed with all of this misplaced energy coursing through him.

“Mm,” Kitayama says thoughtfully. “That sounds nice. Does Miyacchi ever let you top?”

“Rarely,” Miyata answers. “He likes it too much the other way.”

Tamamori reaches back to swat him. “Don’t tell people that.”

Kitayama chuckles again, but he’s also wrapping his fingers around Tamamori’s cock and Tamamori decides to pick his battles. “It’s okay, Tama-chan,” he says, and his voice sounds even lower against Tamamori’s collarbone. “I’ve grown to like it, too.”

That pulls a groan from Tamamori’s throat, one that doesn’t fade right away as he rocks between the pair of them, pushing into Kitayama’s hand. “I think you’re clean enough,” he says, and it’s Miyata who guides him out of the shower.

Toweling off takes forever and he makes the mistake of covering his face to dry his hair, which has him double attacked by two sets of hands and suddenly Tamamori sees the appeal of this whole threesome thing. It’s a miracle they make it back to Kitayama’s bed, though Kitayama’s already halfway in his arms and all the way in his mouth while Miyata’s pressed flush behind him and probably the only reason they’re standing upright at all.

Kitayama’s back hits the mattress and Tamamori lands on top of him, neatly settling between his legs that wrap around Tamamori’s waist invitingly. A tube is pressed into his hands and Tamamori pauses, abandoning Kitayama’s lips to look breathlessly up at Miyata, who smiles down at him.

“It’s okay,” Miyata tells him, and Tamamori can see in his eyes how turned on he is watching them. “I’m right here.”

“Aw, you two are cute,” Kitayama teases, and Tamamori turns back to glare at him as he uncaps the tube and coats his fingers with the contents.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, finding some satisfaction in the way Kitayama throws his head back before Tamamori even reaches his rim. This exposes his neck and throat, his Adam’s apple jumping in anticipation and Tamamori’s mouth is on it like it’s a magnetic attraction, feeling Kitayama’s groans against his lips as he pushes one finger inside him, then two.

“Mm, Tama-chan,” Kitayama breathes, and it’s so foreign and familiar at the same time that Tamamori doesn’t know what to think anymore. So he doesn’t think at all, just _feels_ as Kitayama opens up for him, moving underneath him like a body wave, and Tamamori moans at the way Kitayama tightens around his fingers.

Then he feels a hand on his back and jerks, prodding Kitayama faster and Kitayama’s next noise is much louder. He’s aroused again, his reborn erection rubbing against Tamamori’s stomach, and Tamamori shifts so that they’re lined up together. Miyata’s touch trails down to his ass, so light that it’s almost not there, but it leaves a wake of tingles that is almost as arousing as his cock rubbing against Kitayama’s.

Tamamori doesn’t notice how hard he’s fingering Kitayama until the other man is pushing back against him, filthy expletives falling from his lips and nails digging into Tamamori’s back from the pressure. Tamamori feels like he could explode if he gets any hotter, pulling back enough to see Kitayama’s bright red face, his eyes dark and glossy as he looks up at Tamamori and bites his bottom lip. His hair is messed up again, splayed all over the pillow from his thrashing, and Tamamori has a strong urge to run his fingers through it, maybe twist them a little and _yank_.

“This was a good idea,” Miyata mutters, sidling up against Tamamori’s side and mouthing his neck. “This was a very good idea.”

All Tamamori can do is moan, bringing his other hand up to cradle Miyata’s head as he looks down at the hot mess that is Kitayama right now. It’s Miyata who rolls the condom on Tamamori, making him hiss at the stimulation, and he can’t stop his hips from rolling as Miyata lubes him up and more or less gives him a push forward. Tamamori pulls out his fingers and the next thing he knows, he’s inside Kitayama, groaning into his neck as his body squeezes him and doesn’t stop.

“Fuck yes,” Kitayama gasps, lifting his knees to take Tamamori in deeper, and their height difference leaves them nearly nose to nose. Tamamori kisses him on impulse, licking his tongue as he starts to move and swallowing Kitayama’s faint whimpers and moans. Tamamori’s hips snap on their own and it’s so good, his brain melting away until he knows nothing but how it feels, including Miyata right next to him.

He can feel Miyata’s eyes on them, which makes him thrust even harder. Tamamori didn’t think he was an exhibitionist until right now, or maybe it’s just because Miyata enjoys watching them so much. Regardless, he clutches onto Kitayama’s shoulder with one hand while the other reaches to the side, patting around for Miyata’s until the other man notices and laces their fingers together. Miyata’s other hand is still on Tamamori’s ass and it weighs more than it should, with Tamamori very aware of its presence. Miyata’s fingers are still slick from earlier and Tamamori wants them inside him, stimulating him while he fucks Kitayama, but he can’t bring himself to tear his mouth away from Kitayama’s to say the words.

Miyata’s not much of a mind reader, but Tamamori’s horribly obvious with the way he lifts his ass each time he rocks back, and now he’s the one moaning into Kitayama’s mouth as Miyata touches him deeply. He slides his hand up to fist Kitayama’s hair and pulls him right out of their kiss, which amplifies the volume of both of their noises.

“Toshiya,” Tamamori gets out, and Miyata grunts in acknowledgement. “I want you.”

Kitayama is the one who makes a pleased sound at that, and for once Miyata follows directions without comment. All Tamamori feels is Miyata’s fingers leaving him and his thighs being spread from behind, then Miyata’s cock is filling him and Tamamori is pushed further into Kitayama. Tamamori doesn’t even have to move, Miyata’s thrusts rocking him back and forth between them, and he’s content to just lay on top of Kitayama and let Miyata do all the work.

Nails rake down his back and he’s not sure whose they are, nor does it matter as time blurs together in a series of grunts and moans. Miyata leans down to press his chest to Tamamori’s back, bringing their joined hands between Tamamori and Kitayama’s sweat-slicked bellies to wrap their fingers around Kitayama’s cock. Heat rushes through Tamamori and there’s no way he can last through this, crying out unintelligible syllables as Kitayama tightens around him and spills over their fingers.

“Kitamitsu,” Miyata rasps, and Tamamori’s mildly irritated until he realizes the other man is just getting Kitayama’s attention. “His ear.”

Kitayama mumbles something, unmoving by his own means, but then his lips are on Tamamori’s ear, sucking on the lobe and making it halfway up the shell before Tamamori shudders violently. His orgasm surges through him, pulling a rough groan from his lungs, and he feels Miyata pound into him from behind, soft gasps of his first name piercing through the haze that’s quickly taking over his mind. He moans along with Miyata when the latter finishes inside him, then Tamamori curls up on top of Kitayama who’s still struggling to catch his breath.

“Looks like we wore him out,” Kitayama says with a hint of amusement, and Tamamori swats at him with his eyes closed.

“That was much more effort than he’s used to making,” Miyata replies, equally as breathless as he stretches out alongside them, and Tamamori would swat him too if he hadn’t already fallen asleep.

*

When he wakes up, Kitayama is gone, though Tamamori’s still in his bed. Miyata’s laying next to him, mostly dressed and watching something on TV, but he looks over when Tamamori stirs.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he says, and Tamamori rolls his eyes before they’re fully opened. “Kitamitsu had to go film, but he said we could stay here as long as we wanted.”

“Good, because I’m not moving for a long time,” Tamamori mumbles. “I’m exhausted and my entire body hurts.”

“I bet.” Miyata rolls towards him and bumps their noses together, laughing when Tamamori cringes and buries his face in a pillow. “Hey.”

“Mm?”

“Thanks.”

Tamamori looks at him again and offers a tiny smile. “It was fun.”

“Just fun?” Miyata asks knowingly, and Tamamori returns his face to the pillow when Miyata tries to kiss him. He gives in eventually, like he always does, and the pair of them are still kissing lazily in Kitayama’s bed when Tamamori’s phone rings.

“Ugh, phone-san, I’m busy,” Tamamori whines, stretching his protesting bones to reach for his pants. It’s Fujigaya, he uncovers when he squints at his display, and he frowns as he answers. “I thought you were working today.”

“Can you please not cripple Kitayama right before we have to film?” Fujigaya greets him. “We have athletic scenes today and he’s being more of a pain in the ass than usual.”

“Interesting choice of words,” Tamamori replies, trying not to laugh when he hears Fujigaya’s disgust over the phone. “Maybe you should try being nice to him.”

“Pass,” Fujigaya says dryly. “I’m not interested in the repercussions of that anymore. Just keep my sanity in mind when you make your life choices, please.”

“In that case,” Tamamori begins, casting devious eyes over to Miyata. “What are you doing later?”

He’s laughing too hard to notice that Fujigaya has hung up on him.


End file.
